Notes

Time stood still
like the gas clerk
gun to his eyebrow
it happens every other month
he knows he wont die now
he lets a sigh out
bored with the exchange
grabs a bag, puts the change
and the ones and the fives down
the gunman is pale, frail but a man in size
clerk starts to analyze
and see's he's not a man inside
jittery demeanor
small waist, handsome eyes
lost puppy look shows you who he's been abandoned by
oily and grimmey city
more out of life riding
steady flicker hypnotizing florescence in the writhing heat
he bites his cheek and
tries to hide his weakness
all the while worried that a sheriff might peek in
he grips the pistol tight butterfly tummy
normally another shy bummy cluttered mind dummy
tonight he's in control
chest tight from the rush
as a woman pulls up and takes her toes from the clutch
slams the door and makes for the entrance
frozen by her senses from the moment that she heads in
tension in the air she seeks to put up her defenses
the gunner panics, pulls out and places death's vengeance
the bullet hits her face, her face hits the window
her last earthly vision is her rusty green pinto
a silent puddle formed, serine as she slept
the clerk and gunman met eyes and they wept